


A Guide to Art and Affection

by alienpoetry



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Drabble, Fluff, M/M, Strangers to Lovers, barista!Dan, photographer!phil
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-12
Updated: 2016-08-12
Packaged: 2018-08-08 08:28:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7750540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alienpoetry/pseuds/alienpoetry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A certain barista catches the attention of a certain photography student's camera and it's a story made for picture frames.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Guide to Art and Affection

**Author's Note:**

> this was written for phandomlittlepop on tumblr!
> 
> beta-ed by [the wonderful Anne](http://phandaya.tumblr.com)!
> 
> link to the snazzy art at the end!

_i. The point of interest._

The camera’s lens rests gently on Phil’s left palm and a finger on his right hand ghosts above the shutter button. He squints his eyes, peering into the viewfinder. The snap, snap, snap of the shutter captures beauty with each rhythmic click. It finds itself captivated by the image of a barista fumbling and twiddling with the handles of an espresso machine.

The photographer zooms in a little and admittedly, behind the camera, feels a little entranced by the barista’s dimple that blossoms on the lower half of his cheek. The barista’s face contorts to one of frustration as he continues meddling with the levers on the machine. The hostile expression dances, unfitting and out of place, against the radiant, delicate softness of his porcelain skin. Phil quickly presses the button and entraps the sight before him in the camera before it flits away.

_ii. Focal point._

As the shutter echoes, the barista immediately shoots his head up, his eyebrows are furrowed, and his bemused gaze turns into one of revulsion when he notices where, or rather who, the camera was pointed at. He locks eyes with Phil as Phil awkwardly and haphazardly lowers the camera, attempting to casually quell his extreme mortification. The white noise wrapped around him is suspended and all that he senses is a vehement thudding in his chest.

Phil slowly approaches the counter and the barista’s sullen glower doesn’t waver, not even once. Phil wants to douse this look in a myriad of Photoshop filters, play with the variance near the crinkle of his eyes, blur out the scrunch at the top of his nose bridge, add a glistening glow to the gleam in his eyes. (All in the objective appreciation of photography and art, of course.)

As Phil nears the counter, the barista conveys rather bluntly, “Well, excuse me mate, but that was pretty fucking creepy of you.”

Phil catches a glimpse of the other man’s name tag. Dan.

“I…” Phil sighs, “I have a good explanation, I promise.”

Dan waits.

“I’m a photography student and I’m taking photos, using the theme of ‘subjectivity’.” Phil explains, “And, subjectively… I think you’re… lovely to, you know… look at.”

Phil awkwardly rubs the back of his neck and his gaze bores right through the soles of his shoes. A blanket of warmth drapes across the bridge of his nose as the unmistakeable simmer of embarrassment burrows itself deep within his insides.

“O-Oh.” Dan stutters as the hue of a natural blush effloresces on his cheeks, like watercolour paint daintily skimmed over the arch of his cheekbones.

“Uh… Yeah. So, I’m sorry?” Uncertainty ringing through Phil’s voice, he utters, “I’ll, uh… see you around, I guess?” He lifts his hand, palm facing out, unmoving. He doesn’t wave. Bashfully, he regains some form of dignity and starts to turn around to leave.

“Wait.” Dan interjects. “You… uh, wanna hang out sometime? I mean…”

And as a grin tugs effortlessly at the sides of Phil’s mouth, he’s nodding before he even realises it.

_iii. Exposure_

After a few meetings, when the dull smudge of unfamiliarity disperses, Dan’s demeanour abandons the cold guise of unease and he acquaints himself with the camera’s attention.

Most of the time, he doesn’t even notice when Phil’s camera pans across and its focus lingers on him. He doesn’t notice when Phil lines the frame to shoot the stretch of his neck and the way it dips along the crevasse of his collarbone. He doesn’t notice when Phil focuses on his right profile and the intricate manner in which the light splashes across his cheeks and hair, enveloping him in a vibrant lustre, illuminating the screen on Phil’s camera. He doesn’t notice when Phil swiftly flits the camera across when he laughs with his hand over his mouth and his eyes brilliant, baptised in a sheen of celestial innocence.

Phil doesn’t tell Dan either.

_iv. Shoot._

Another afternoon and Phil’s waiting for Dan in the coffee-shop, he’s messing around with the effects on a photo where a giggly Dan basks under the afterglow of the sunset-soaked sky. Phil’s a conductor and the colours blend into a harmonious hum. Phil cloaks the photo in a pervasive, vivid warmth. (Even though Dan exudes that all by himself.)

And as Phil edits, Dan noiselessly pads towards him, then startles him and almost causes the other brunet to spill the lukewarm coffee on his jeans when he speaks, “Is that me? Oh my God, you’re such a dork, delete that right now.”

“No.” Phil shoots him down with mirth in his voice.

“Phil!” Dan whines.

“Phil, I swear to—”

Dan’s words die in his mouth as Phil turns his head and fits their lips together in a sweet, languorous kiss. Phil fixates on the saccharine savour of Dan, all of Dan.

The scene tastes like the sentimental smack of hot chocolate, sounds like the mellow plucking of a acoustic coffee-shop hit and looks like sepia-toned adoration.

It’s one for the picture frames.

**Author's Note:**

> here's [ art done by the lovely Ollie](http://sleeping-at-night.tumblr.com/post/148746328766)!
> 
> would've liked better story development but word limit u feel? :/
> 
> ravehowell on tumblr btw!!


End file.
